


Sweet As Can Be

by daysofinspiration



Series: Sweet As Can Be [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daysofinspiration/pseuds/daysofinspiration
Summary: Fluff fic. Glee Club’s ten-year reunion barbeque. Everyone is grown up and starting their families. Santana’s happy. She has Brittany and she’s in love. She doesn’t need anything else. Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-divergent post season two. This is a one-shot that turned into the longest two-shot imaginable. Part one is pure fluff, part two will be the more Brittana part of this.  
> I’m not really happy with how this turned out but oh well.

In all honesty, it was because of Rachel. True, Tina or Kurt could easily be put at fault, but essentially it came down to Rachel. That damn diva, who, by the end of senior year, Santana had established a sort of friendship with. That same diva who, ten years later, had organised a barbeque for all their McKinley Glee Club friends. If Rachel hadn’t organised the party, Santana wouldn’t be standing here having this intense moment with Brittany. She wouldn’t admit it, but if she had to place the blame somewhere, it would be on Rachel’s shoulders. Not that she would ever tell Rachel, her ego was big enough.

And not like blame was exactly the right word, considering this was a good thing, not a bad thing.

Still, it was because of Rachel Berry she was here, standing with Brittany’s arms wrapped around her middle, on a porch that wasn’t their own, proposing an idea to the blonde that she had been strongly against most of her life.“We’re just crossing over the I-75 now,” Artie said, “We should be about fifteen minutes, tops.”

* * *

 

“We’re just crossing over the I-75 now,” Artie said, “We should be about fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Tell Sam there’s an accident on 4th Street,” Rachel called out, “Take another way here.”

There was a pause, and then, “Okay, he said we’ll take Foundry.”

“Construction,” Tina said. “Take Battle Street instead.”

“Got it,” Artie said. It had been Rachel’s idea to put him on speaker phone, that way everyone could hear.

“You better tell him to step on it, Artie,” Mike said loudly, “I’m about to start heating up the barbeque.”

“We’ll be there shortly,” Artie replied before hanging up.

The day was, as Rachel had dubbed it, the _McKinley High Glee Club Ten Year Anniversary Bash_. Santana was just calling it the reunion barbeque.

The whole day had been planned by the tiny brunette. It was ten years exactly since their high school graduation, and for the past few weeks she had been getting in contact with everyone and arranging for the big reunion.

Mike and Tina’s house in Lima had been dubbed for the occasion. It was “back home” in Lima and since not everyone lived there anymore she figured it would be good to have the party in a familiar place. Mike and Tina’s place was chosen specifically over Finn’s because they had a large patio and huge backyard. It was big and spacious and had enough room for everyone and their families to gather.

Sam and Artie were the only ones not there yet, but were, apparently, fifteen minutes away.

After high school, Sam had stayed in Lima and went to community college for a few years. Then, seemingly making the decision out of nowhere, moved out west. He now lived outside Tucson, Arizona on a small horse ranch. Santana had no idea the boy even knew how to ride a horse, much less care for one. But there he was. He and his on-again-off-again girlfriend ran the barn together, some sort of horse rescue paradise.

In addition to working on the ranch, Sam had also followed his dream and geeked out in the greatest possible way. He worked from home as a comic book writer and artist. The horses surprised Santana, the comics didn’t.

Artie’s future had taken him in the opposite geographical direction. After a computer tech scholarship at MIT, Artie had slowly made his way further and further south, eventually ending up as a computer programmer in Jacksonville, Florida. From what Santana understood from her rushed conversation with Rachel when she was planning all this, Artie actually owned and oversaw the whole company.

“I’m starting up the barbeque anyway,” Mike informed.

“Mike,” Tina scolded, “Be nice. It isn’t their fault. Their flight was supposed to get here yesterday.”

“If I don’t start it up, Puck will. Puck likes to think he’s the Barbeque King.”

“Dude, go ahead,” Puck groaned from where he was lying on the grass, nursing a bag of frozen peas between his legs. “I’m fine here.”

“I have to say, that was a great way to start off the afternoon,” Quinn said, hiding her laugh behind her hand.

“Can it, Fabray.”

“Ice it, Puckerman,” Quinn quipped. “Or do you need a bag of frozen carrots to go with those peas? Even better, I’m sure Santana or I would gladly cut your balls right off for you, save you the pain. And the humiliation.”

That shut Puck up.

Artie and Sam had met up four days ago in Georgia for a week-long comic book convention and had arranged to fly to Ohio together for the barbeque. They were supposed to get to Lima yesterday, but bad weather in Georgia had grounded their flight and they had only gotten to the airport a little while ago. But now, with Sam behind the wheel of a rental car, they were on their way.

And that was a good thing, because the reunion party was already in full swing. Aside from Puck’s painful and embarrassing arrival at the Chang household, Tina’s daughter had spilt the pitcher of ice tea over the patio table and Finn’s massive beast of a dog had run off with the hamburger buns.

Rachel, after being convinced that the actual _Glee Club_ part of the reunion, namely the singing, couldn’t start until everyone was there, had scurried off for a few minutes. She had returned only after her specially chosen playlist of songs was playing softly through Mike’s outdoor speakers.

She had convinced Quinn to join her in doing a karaoke number to start off the party, Quinn turning bright red when Rachel chose something from the Spice Girls. But that was it. No more singing until everyone was there. Rachel had pouted.

Something big and furry brushed against Santana’s legs. She looked down; Mike and Tina’s Golden Retriever was under the table snagging some pretzels Brittany had dropped.

The blonde squealed as the dog finished grabbing the fallen food and began licking her flip-flop clad toes. “Don’t, that tickles!”

“Bailey! Bay, come here,” Tina called. The dog responded, slinking out from under the table and coming to Tina’s side. “You goof,” she said, grabbing the dog lightly by both ears, “You can’t just go around licking people willy-nilly. Not everyone appreciates it.”

“His tongue is so big,” Brittany laughed, “I’m only used to the cat's tongue. And his is a lot smaller. And not as wet.”

“You let her keep pets?” Mercedes joked, looking at Santana. “I remember the cats she had in high school, those were scary creatures.”

Brittany stuck her tongue out.

“Don’t worry,” the Latina assured, “Ours is of a respectable size and weight. Nothing as massively overweight as Lord Tubbington. And,” she added, “nothing as evil as Charity was.”

“I don’t think I met Charity,” Kurt offered.

“She hated everything.”

“No, sweetie. Only you.”

“Thanks,” Santana deadpanned. “So much.”

“What’s your cat’s name?” Tina asked.

“Tiger,” Brittany replied. “He’s black with a white tuft under his chin.”

Blaine looked a little thrown, “You’re black cat is named Tiger. But tigers are-”

“Don’t bother,” Santana heard Kurt whisper.

“Oh my God, Kurt! You and Blaine should get a cat too. Or a puppy!”

Kurt laughed, “Thanks, Britt, I think we have our hands fill with what we’ve got right now.”

Sitting to Santana’s left were Kurt and Blaine; the high school sweethearts, turned not, turned lovers again. The pair had only lasted six months after graduation before breaking up, a sob story that Santana had heard first hand.

After Kurt had returned to McKinley and she had gotten her head out of her ass, the two had formed a strong friendship that had lasted longer than she would have ever expected. After Brittany, Kurt had been the first person she’d hugged as they’d been deemed the graduating class of 2012 and tossed their caps into the air. Kurt was also one of the first people she called to wish Merry Christmas ever year, falling before her parents but after Quinn. They were close, and planned on it staying that way.

So Santana had been there when Kurt and Blaine had that one fight that went too far, ending their relationship for what they both thought was forever. It became almost routine, the two of them, out at a bar every weekend, Kurt trying not to think about how miserable his life would be without Blaine, with Santana trying in her not-so-sober state to say something comforting. It had taken Brittany pushing Santana for her to finally put a stop to Kurt’s wallowing and forced him back into his life.

Santana had also been there, by phone this time, three years later when Kurt called to announce that he had run into Blaine the day before and they were going for coffee the next day. But just as friends. Queue Santana’s over-excited and way too girly squeal of joy for Kurt to “go get him, tiger!”

Now, seven years later, the lovebirds were in the midst of their “we’re going to grow old together” plan. They had gotten married and now lived in Inwood, a neighbourhood on Manhattan Island. Kurt was an editor for a high-end fashion magazine and Blaine was a journalist who volunteered at a community theatre. Their life was pretty much adorable.

Though Blaine was currently sitting comfortably in one of the patio chairs, arm thrown casually over the back of Kurt’s chair, Kurt was sitting forward in his seat, eyes trained carefully on Rachel.

The reason for this was because Kurt and Blaine’s five-month-old son Robert was happily perched on Rachel’s lap.

“Kurt, relax, Rachel isn’t going to drop him,” Blaine chuckled.

Kurt’s eyes didn’t move from the smiling baby.

“Really Kurt,” Rachel insisted, “Along with my singing capabilities, I have very good reflexes. In the unlikely event that I _did_ drop your child, rest assured I would catch him before he hit the patio.”

The baby gurgled happily as Rachel bounced him up and down on her knees. “And aren’t you a pretty baby?”

Robert giggled, tugging on Rachel’s hair. “Yes, I agree, you are a very pretty baby, Mr Burt Jr. Yes, you are.”

“I didn’t realise Rachel was so good with kids,” Quinn commented.

“I’m a natural,” Rachel said absentmindedly, still bouncing the child on her lap. The baby began clapping and Rachel laughed. “Oh, you are so precious.”

“Rachel, we live ten minutes away from you, you see him all the time.”

Rachel scoffed at Blaine, “What, do you not like me praising the adorableness of your very charismatic child?”

Blaine shrugged, “You’re making Kurt nervous.”

Rachel waved him off, “Nonsense. I am perfectly able to handle your child without injury. Did I not just babysit for you two weekends ago so you could go off and have your anniversary dinner?” Rachel smiled sweetly and blinked her long lashes at the pair expectantly.

Kurt flushed and Blaine rolled his eyes and laughed, “Yes, yes you did. And we appreciate it.”

Rachel nodded and continued, “Now, Mr Adorable Little Pumpkin, you need to convince your Daddy and Papa that you want to be a big star, that way they can begin your star training as soon as possible.” She nodded seriously at Robert, who gurgled at her again.

“Was she like this with Jamie?” Santana asked, referring to Kurt and Blaine’s three-year-old daughter.

“Who do you think convinced Jamie she needed to start ice skating lessons at two and a half?” Kurt asked incredulously.

“Ice skating is a very serious sport, Kurt,” Rachel chided.

Though the diva did not have any children of her own, she was far from unhappy.

Rachel had done everything she’d dreamed of doing since she was a little girl, she’d become a Broadway star. Moving to Manhattan after graduation, the little brunette had started off small, working smaller Off-Broadway roles until she had worked her way up to the top. She was now the star member of New York’s newest hit musical, where she sang her heart out night after night to an audience of cheering fans.

Rachel still had a large ego, but it had calmed considerably since high school. Santana was surprised; actually making it big was what had humbled the diva.

She lived in Midtown, the Broadway area of New York. Only a ten-minute drive from Inwood, she visited Kurt and Blaine regularly, glitzing and glamoring up their daughter and never missing one of the tiny girl’s ice skating competitions.

The brunette was not currently dating anyone, but over the years had had a few love affairs. It actually surprised Santana. Though she knew Rachel put her career before her relationships, she had always come off as the romantic in high school. It was odd thinking that Rachel wasn’t married or at least steadily dating someone.

But Rachel was happy. That was all that mattered to her.

“Look!” Mike and Tina’s son Logan said, toddling over. He held out his hand, offering his mother a squished beetle. “A bee!”

Tina swiped a napkin from the table, “No, sweetie,” she cooed, wiping the bug goo from her son’s hand, “That’s a beetle, not a bee.”

“Bee- _tle_ ,” the boy tested the word out.

“That’s right,” she smiled, lifting him up onto her lap. “And I told you, you can’t go around picking up bugs. They’re dirty.”

“I like dirt,” the boy said happily, showing off his hands. There was dirt from the garden under his small fingernails.

“Now that’s an understatement,” Mike laughed, standing at the barbeque. He stepped away for a moment to reach over and tickle his son’s stomach. The two-year-old flailed about in hysterics until Tina set him back down on the ground. He immediately went back to where he had been previously, sitting in the sandbox and digging away happily. His blue overalls were covered in dirt, sand, and grass stains.

“Now that boy is a mess waiting to happen,” Puck laughed. “I like him.”

Mike sighed, “He’s a handful, but he’s happy.”

The sandbox and accompanying tree house sat off to one side of the yard, next to the garden. Jamie was sitting in between the garden and the sandbox, playing with a large stuffed pink cat.

“She likes her birthday present?” Brittany asked, looking at the cat.

“Yeah Britt,” Blaine smiled, “She loves it.”

“Good,” Brittany said happily, “Santana wanted to get her a doll. I thought the cat was better.”

“Infinitely better,” Blaine laughed.

Logan stood up in the sandbox and called Jamie over. The little girl giggled happily and plopped herself and the stuffed cat down into the middle of the sandpit and the two began filling buckets and trying to build a sand castle.

Kurt sighed, “She’s going to get that dress covered in sand.”

“You aren’t a dirty little baby like your sister, are you?” Rachel chuckled. Robert showed his appreciation for the statement by clapping for her. “Oh, clever little Burt Jr.” She leaned down, mock-whispering, “Since you are such a good, clean baby, I think you should ask your Papa for a kitty, like Auntie Brittany suggested. Hmm?” Robert began giggling, waving his hands around happily.

“Rachel,” Blaine sighed.

“What?” She turned the baby in her lap so he was facing Blaine, “Come on pretty baby, tell Papa you want a kitty cat.” She tickled his sides lightly.

The baby exploded in high pitched giggles.

“Okay, come here before she tells you to convince me to buy you a car or something equally ridiculous.” He reached forward, taking the baby from Rachel. Robert immediately snuggled into Blaine’s chest.

There was a loud squeal and everyone looked over to see Logan dumping a bucket of sand into Jamie’s lap.

Kurt sighed again, face pinched as he watched his daughter’s pink dress become further covered in sand.

“She can borrow something of Lilly’s,” Tina offered lightly, “for the ride home if that one gets too sandy. I’m sure we could find something that would fit.”

Mike and Tina were the perfect example of a happily ever after. Both had attended Ohio State for teaching, first living on campus and then moving into their own off-campus apparent in downtown Columbus. They had eventually made their way back to Lima, where Tina had taken up teaching kindergarten at the local primary school. Mike had become the gym teacher at McKinley and had taken over as the football coach.

In addition to teaching at their respective schools, both taught dance classes at the community centre. Tina spent two evenings a week teaching little girls and boys how to tap dance, and Mike spent weekend mornings teaching different variations of hip-hop to teenagers.

They bought their first house in Lima six years ago, right before Lilly was born. It was small and there was a minor rabbit problem in the yard, but it had been good for the new family. Three years later they had scored their current house. An older home, the bungalow had three bedrooms and backed onto a small woodlot. And it had a massive backyard.

The two newest members of the Chang residence were Bailey, their four-year-old Golden Retriever, and Logan, their two-year-old and very mischievous son.

Finn, who had been chasing his massive dog Bear, Lilly and Jacob around near the back of the yard called out, “Heads up!” as Bear began bounding towards the patio. The sound of the dog’s deep bark filled the air as he ran at full speed. Puck rolled to one side, avoiding getting run over as the dog continued running and barking excitedly. “Hey, knock it off!” Finn yelled. The dog barked once more for good measure before quieting, dancing around the patio table.

“Dude, what’s his problem?” Mike asked.

As answer, the back gate swung open and Sam entered pushing Artie in his wheelchair. A chorus of hellos sounded immediately.

Santana stood along with everyone else to exchange hellos. “Hey, Evans,” she said, looking at Sam, “Long time.” In response, the blonde offered his fist for a fist bump, only to pull Santana in for a hug at the last minute. The Latina barked a laugh in response.

“Good to see you too, Lopez,” Sam said, releasing her.

She turned to see Brittany exchanging places with Tina, crouching down in front of Artie to give him a hug.

“You got a new chair!” Brittany laughed as she leaned back from her hug, remembering the wheelchair she and Santana last saw Artie in three years prior.

“Yeah,” Artie explained. “Don’t ask. That’s not a story for when I’m sober.”

The blonde woman giggled as she stood. Santana stepped forward. “Hey, Artie.”

She felt Brittany’s fingers ghosting over the small of her back, reassuring and comforting. She and Artie had made peace – she was the one who had Brittany after all, so what reason did she have to be bitter towards him? – but Brittany’s touch was soothing. It let her know the blonde understood Santana and Artie weren’t on the best page, but reminded Santana there was no reason to be mean to him.

“Policewoman Lopez, always a pleasure,” he answered, offering her a high-five as a response. “Don’t worry, we aren’t double parked. I’d hate to make you break out those cuffs.”

Santana rolled her eyes and laughed, clasping Artie’s shoulder. “Good to see you didn’t lose your sense of humour in taking over that boring-ass company of yours.”

“Woman, have you seen me? I sweat humour.”

“Own it,” Puck piped in, fist-bumping the wheelchair bound man.

“Where’s the food?” Sam asked, looking towards Mike and the barbeque.

Mike opened his mouth to answer but his wife cut in. “Kids first. Lilly,” she said, looking down at the girl tugging on her skirt. “Hot dog or hamburger? And yes Rachel, we have vegan too.”

“Burger!”

“Hot dog for Logan,” she instructed Mike as he dished out the food. “Kurt, what’s Jamie having?”

“Hot dog for her. Come on babe,” he said, scooping the small girl onto his hip. “Let’s get you a plate. What do you want, carrots or cucumbers?”

“Cumbers,” the pig-tailed girl giggled. “Lots and lots!”

Once the parents had assembled their children’s plates, the adults stood to prepare their own. First stopping at the barbeque to place their order with Mike and then stepping inside the Chang’s kitchen to choose from an assortment of other summertime foods like pasta salads and fruit and vegetable platters.

“Damn, Mike, these burgers are amazing,” Mercedes commented once they’d all sat back down, plates full of food.

“I have to agree,” Rachel added, “They are quite well done.”

Mike, who was eating and standing next to the barbeque with Tina leaning against him doing the same, wrapped an arm around her shoulder affectionately, “Tina made them. Her own recipe.”

“You made these?” Brittany asked, awed.

“Mmm,” Tina laughed lightly. “Sure did. And Lily helped me roll the patties. She’s quite a wiz in the kitchen.”

Sam, who was reclined back in one of the lounge chairs and opening a beer, looked over to where the kids were eating at a picnic table next to the sandbox. “Lilly!” he called out hastily, “Your burgers are amazing! I love them!”

“If you love them so much, why don’t you marry them?”

There were about four seconds of silence before the snickering and snorting began.

“Yeah Sam, why don’t you _marry them_ ,” Santana managed to get out after she’d stopped laughing, imitating Lilly’s trill voice.

Sam was fighting not to join in the laughter, “Oh fuck off, Lopez.”

Multiple voices scolded his choice of language with the kids so nearby.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam apologised, “Not used to censoring myself.”

“You get used to it,” Kurt offered. He nudged Blaine with his shoulder, “Mr Potty Mouth here was a handful to train.”

“You jest, kind sir,” Blaine answered.

Rachel shook her head at the couple and looked down tenderly at the baby sitting up in Blaine’s lap. “Your Papa doesn’t have a potty mouth, does he?”

Robert exploded with laughter.

“Traitor,” Kurt muttered.

Santana leaned over to Kurt and whispered, “You really want us to believe _he_ has a potty mouth? Please, that’s like saying you don’t pee rainbows.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Really, Santana?” he whispered back, “Because that blonde on your arm would imply that you pee rainbows just as much as I do. And knowing that blonde, she probably has you both pooping unicorns too.”

The Latina snorted into her drink, causing Brittany to turn away from her conversation with Mercedes to look at Santana. “You okay?” she asked.

The brunette nodded, deliberately not looking at Kurt. “Yeah babe,” she managed, her voice sounding hoarse, “I’m good.”

Brittany looked at her intently a moment, studying her, before smiling and turning back to Mercedes.

“You win, Hummel.”

Kurt nodded knowingly. They both looked back over at Rachel and Blaine, who were still talking with the baby.

Blaine bounced his knee up and down, eyes on the baby in his lap. As he reached for a carrot off his plate Robert leaned forward, both hands reaching out to take the piece of food.

“Oh, no,” Blaine said, moving the plate away. “That isn’t for you.”

“Here,” Rachel said, taking her knife and cutting off a small piece of watermelon from the slice on her plate. “Let him try some of this?” she asked.

Blaine took the offered piece of fruit, holding it out to Robert. The baby eyed the fruit warily before his hand flew forward to clutch the piece. He waved it around cheerfully; unaware he was supposed to eat it.

“Rach,” Blaine intoned without looking at her, “Cut another one.” He then slowly moved his hand forward, taking the fruit from his son. “No, munchkin, see, you eat it.” He then popped the fruit into his mouth.

By now most of the table was watching the interaction, all smiling or holding their breath to see the baby’s reaction. Robert stared wide-eyed. He gurgled at his father, reaching toward Blaine’s mouth, as if to retrieve the watermelon.

“Here,” Blaine said, taking the second piece from Rachel. He offered it to Robert, who, again, snatched the fruit away. This time though, he slowly brought it to his mouth, eyes on Blaine the whole time. Blaine nodded encouragingly, “That’s right. Like that.”

Robert seemed to understand that this _was_ something he was allowed to put in his mouth, no doubt mouthing on plenty of things he shouldn’t at home. He placed the fruit in his mouth and giggled, gumming on it.

His eyes then widened further as the watery fruit dissolved in his mouth. He swallowed, some of it dribbled down his chin, and then began laughing and bouncing about on Blaine’s lap.

“Blaine, you just created a monster,” Quinn smiled.

Blaine leaned down and kissed the top of Robert’s head, “Who’s Papa’s cute little monster? Hmmm?”

Movement in her peripheral caught Santana’s attention and pulled it away from the tender scene. She watched as Lilly skipped over to the adults, Jacob following behind her. She stopped next to Finn, who was sitting on the ground beside Puck, sans ice pack.

“Uncle Finn?” She asked politely, looking at him intently.

“Yeah?”

“Will you come back over and play with us, we were having fun before we had to come and eat but we’re all done eating now, and you were really fast chasing us and Bear was fun when he was running around and you’re just like a big kid too, so will you come over and play with us again?” She glanced at her mother and then added hastily, “Oh, right. Please.”

In response, Finn lurched to his feet and took chase after the two kids. Bailey and Bear had settled on the grass in front of Finn and Puck, tails thumping loudly as they hoped for a chunk of burger to be tossed their way. But they jumped up quickly and followed, barking excitedly.

“Oh, my God, Tina, your daughter is adorable.”

“‘Oh, right. Please.’” Tina repeated, “Manners. I’ve taught her so well.”

Quinn shook her head, “No, hon. She’s adorable. And very polite for someone so small. She’s just excited. Finn has that effect on little kids.”

Puck agreed, “The dude’s like the messiah of children.”

“Jacob’s polite too,” Tina smiled.

Quinn’s eyes widened and she blushed, swatting at the air as if to push the comment aside. “No, no. Jacob’s all his.” Her fingers prodded her boyfriend’s side. The two were sitting together on the second lounger.

Richard barked a laugh, “He looks up to you, Quinnie. He wasn’t this polite before he met you.”

Quinn blushed further and buried her face into Richard’s shoulder.

After high school, Quinn had left Lima for good and attended law school. The blonde had moved around for quite a while, hopping from city to city until she had finally settled down in Burlington, Vermont. She was now a well-off, high-class defence lawyer. She had been in Burlington for four years now, her apartment only two hours from Brittany and Santana’s place, allowing them to easily get together for Christmas and the Fourth of July every year.

Her boyfriend of three years now was Richard Waters, a very handsome brown-haired blue-eyed banker. Their first date, as Quinn had described to Santana over the phone, was “so romantic but not sappy or cliché at the same time, you know? I mean, we went out to lunch, but that was after we spent the day at the museum. The museum, S! How much more perfect can he get? It was so amazing, Santana. He’s so smart. He knows all these random history facts, they just like, poured out of him while we were walking by the displays and he’s funny and oh, Santana, he’s wonderful. He’s just so great. He’s such a nice, sweet guy. He’s smart, funny, _so cute_ , and he listens and oh my God he’s just so amazing.”

Along with Richard also came his eight-year-old son, Jacob, who adored Quinn almost as much as Quinn adored him.

A particularly loud burst of giggles caused everyone to turn and look at where the rest of the kids were playing. Finn was running around at the far end of the yard, he and Bailey were chasing after Lilly and Jacob, while they chased after Bear.

Bailey broke off from Finn, curving to one side to cut the children off. He leapt forward in front of Jacob and Lilly and causing them to fall over in a tangle of limbs and high-pitched laughter.

“I’m gonna get you!” Finn yelled, running over to them.

The two kids squealed, getting to their feet as fast as they could. Jacob took off in one direction of the yard, running as fast as he could with Bear barking deeply and running after him. Eventually, the boy turned and tackled the dog, throwing his arms around Bearn’s neck and bringing them both to the ground.

Lilly started in the other direction but Finn caught her. “I got you, my pretty!” He laughed, pitching his voice higher than normal and scooping her into the air. The little girl thrashed about in his arms, kicking and laughing hysterically as she tried to get away.

“No, no, Uncle Finn let me go!” she shrieked.

Finn held her up above his head by the waist and tossed her into the air. The child screamed louder in excitement at the feeling before Finn caught her in his arms, only to toss her up again. Bailey ran in circles at Finn’s feet, barking and jumping up, pawing at Finn’s side and trying to join in the fun.

“Finn,” Molly called, “Please be careful with her! She isn’t yours; don’t break her!”

“It’s alright,” Tina laughed. “Mike does that to her all the time. She loves it.”

“Jesus,” Santana laughed, “That boy is never going to grow up, is he?”

“No,” Molly laughed, shaking her head, “Probably not.”

Continuing around the table, next to Tina was Molly Mayors. Molly and Finn had gotten married last summer. Santana didn’t know how exactly the two met, but they were clearly in love. Almost grossly so. Finn constantly wore his dopey-eyed look around her, and she wore her girl-next-door humble-pie smile twenty-four seven.

They were cute together though. She was a nurse and he was a fireman. Yes. Finn Hudson, fireman. That was a hilarious surprise. Like Mike and Tina, they too lived in Lima.

And along with Finn came Bear, Finn’s massive German Shepherd/Great Dane thing. The dog was about as massive as they come. Finn _claimed_ it was pure German Shepherd, and yes, sure, it _looked_ like one. Except for the fact that it was about the size of a baby mammoth.

And it was because of this massive beast-dog that Puck had earlier been lying on the grass, groaning in pain.

Puck and Finn had not grown out of their bro-ship after high school. Even though the now lived in different states, they were only about two hours apart and regularly went out for beers or watched football together. So, naturally, Puck saw the beast-dog on a regular basis.

When Puck had stepped out the back door onto the patio, high-fiving Santana and fist bumping Mike, Bear had been on the other side of the yard.

And it was a big yard.

The monster canine had had plenty of time to build of speed as he charged in excitement towards Puck, knocking him to the ground and basically head-butting him in the groin in the process. And the dog had a big, hard head. It looked like it hurt.

But Puck had taken it like a man. Only groaning in pain and accepting the ice pack from Tina, plopping himself down on the grass with a beer and a handful of chips. No cursing. No man-tears. Just a pinched face and the need for alcohol.

Noah “Puck” Puckerman. Santana didn’t know what to do with Puck. The man defied like, everything expected of him. Voted “most likely to rob a bank… again” in high school, Puck had packed up after graduation, left Lima, and made a life for himself. Quite literally.

Somehow, Puck was now the proud owner of a karaoke bar in Canton, Michigan. Santana wasn’t sure _how_ exactly his bar had become a karaoke bar, but it had.

In a way it made sense. Puck wasn’t exactly the big dreamer Rachel was. He, like the rest of the Glee Club, loved music and singing and performing. But like a lot of the members, knew it was less likely he would make it somewhere, with a record deal and an armful of Grammys. But Puck had managed to keep music in his life. Combining his affections for alcohol and love of music together to transform his bar into a place where people happily cheered along while their friends chanted the lyrics to old Elton John or Diana Ross tunes.

Jamie’s high pitched shriek tore everyone’s attention from Sam, who was sharing his latest impressions with everyone. The man had talent, it was a wonder he hadn’t gone into voice-overs for cartoons, the way he could pitch and alter his voice.

“A bunny!”

“What now, sweetie?” Kurt asked, looking towards his daughter.

“Daddy! There’s a bunny!” she pointed at the garden, where a hardly visible mound of brown fur was sitting under some daisies. “Look! Look!”

Logan took this as an invitation to jump up from the picnic table and throw himself towards the rabbit.

The ever-present dancer still showing in his movements, Mike swooped over to his son, grabbing him by the waist and hoisting the boy up onto his hip before he could trample through the flowers.

“Wanna see!” he insisted, little arms reaching towards the garden.

“You can see from here, my little tike. You don’t need to ruin Mommy’s flowers,” Mike laughed, watching his son’s face hold wonder as the bunny hopped under the fence and away from view.

Jamie skipped over to the table and climbed onto Kurt’s lap. “Did you see?”

“Yes, baby. I saw.”

“A bunny!”

“What colour was it?”

“Brown!”

“And what noise to bunnies make?”

Jamie opened her mouth to answer but stopped short, confusion etching itself into her features.

“Kurt,” Quinn scolded. “That’s a mean question.”

Santana watched with an amused grin as Kurt seemed to flounder for a moment before saving the day. He looked at Jamie and spoke lightly, “Bunnies don’t make noises, bunnies go like this,” and proceeded to twitch his nose a la Samantha from Bewitched.

As if this weren’t amusing enough, Sam decided to wow them with his knowledge of the 60’s sitcom by quoting and doing voice impressions of the main characters. Santana would not have found it all quite so amusing had Brittany not received a box set of the television show for Christmas from her parents five years ago, insisting she and Santana marathon the episodes non-stop until they’d devoured them all. Sam’s impressions were funny, but actually knowing what he was referring to made it all the more amusing.

“Honey,” Tina whined once all the laughter had died down. “I thought we were done with rabbits.”

“What do you mean?” Mercedes asked.

“Major. Rabbit. Problem,” Mike explained. “At our old house. It was madness.”

“I’m not moving,” Tina warned, crossing her arms over chest and pouting. “I’m not moving and you can’t make me.”

“I wouldn’t move even if we did end up with another rabbit infestation. I like it here.”

“Me too,” Jamie chirped.

“Baby, you don’t live here,” Blaine smiled.

This didn’t seem to bother the little girl.

“Kurt, you better watch her,” Mercedes said, looking at Kurt and nodding at the little girl on his lap. “With Rachel around, she’ll grow into an even bigger diva than you.”

“Wouldn’t that mean he’d have to keep her away from you too, beautiful?” the man next to Mercedes asked.

“Damn right!” she laughed.

Next to Molly at the table were Mercedes and her fiancé.

Mercedes was the only one of the group to try her luck in California. And luck she found. The diva had set up shop in Los Angeles, and over the course of ten years, managed to work a slum little piece of property into one of L.A.’s finest jazz clubs. Santana and Brittany had visited her during the summer a few years ago, and the Latina had been impressed. The lounge Mercedes owned was classy, with a high-end bar and live performers every night. “Showcasing some of L.A.’s greatest performers” the reviews stated.

Sometime during those ten years, Mercedes had started dating an attorney by the name of Anthony Rashad; the same Anthony who had been the wide receiver on the McKinley High football team. They had been introduced by a mutual friend and had been fully committed since. So committed, in fact, that they were now three months into their engagement.

Kurt, who claimed to have suggested Anthony as possible dating material for Mercedes back in high school, was ecstatic about the situation, and had bullied Mercedes into letting him plan the wedding. A match made in Ohio heaven, he kept insisting.

“Do you guys have a date set for the wedding yet?” Molly asked.

Anthony shook his head thoughtfully, “We’re… working on it.”

“Oh?”

Mercedes took over, “We have a date we _want_ , but,” she looked pointedly at Kurt and continued flatly, “Our wedding planner doesn’t agree.”

“I’m not saying you _have_ to go with my idea. I’m just _suggesting_ you do because it will be indefinitely better in the long run. I mean, if you…”

Santana drifted out of the conversation as Kurt and Mercedes bantered back and forth about all things relating to hers and Anthony’s wedding.

“I’m glad you answered the phone.” Brittany said quietly, leaning closer.

The Latina blinked for a moment. She turned her head, looking the dancer full on, “What?”

Brittany smiled and continued quietly, “When Rachel first called? I was in the shower. I’m glad you answered it even though the display said Rachel Berry.”

“It’s not like she calls us that often. I figured it was important.”

Brittany smiled knowingly, “No. You knew I’d be upset if I found out she called and you were home but purposely didn’t answer it.”

“Also that.”

Brittany’s eyes sparkled happily at Santana, “I’m glad you answered. Rachel always throws great parties.”

“Britt, I think we differ on our definition of great.”

“Well, this one is great. It’s sunny and birds are being chirpy and the kids are all giggly. We have Rachel to thank for all this.”

“I don’t think Rachel can control the weather, B.”

Brittany looked at her seriously, “I think she probably can. I mean, _everything_ goes her way when she plans something.”

Santana considered this. In all likelihood Rachel did have some sort of magical powers, how else could someone so short become so successful?

Brittany leaned forward, her hand reaching out towards the fruit platter on the table. Her fingers hesitated a moment as she tried to decide between some blueberries and a piece of watermelon. Santana watched, intrigued, as Brittany’s hand move to the other side of the platter to retrieve a cherry instead.

Smiling brightly at the brunette, Brittany tossed the small red fruit into her mouth.

“Did you know cherries are part of the same family as almonds and plums?” She asked, biting down on the fruit.

“Uh, no. I didn’t.”

“Mmm hmm,” Brittany nodded. “Almonds? Isn’t that kind of weird?”

Santana shrugged. Sure, she guessed that was kind of weird.

Brittany took the pit from her mouth and placed it on her napkin as she reached for another. “Did you know that dark cherries,” her fingers indicated the fruit in her hand, “are sweet and used for snacks. The lighter ones are tart and used for cooking. Big difference.”

“I knew that one.”

Brittany frowned and harrumphed as she reached for another. “Okay. Did you know that there are more than one thousand different kinds of cherries in the world?” She held the fruit between her teeth and smirked at Santana. “Or,” she said, pulling it into her mouth and chewing, “that no other fruit has been found that has higher levels of Melatonin than cherries.”

“Melatonin? The hormone?”

It was the blonde’s turn to shrug, “I don’t know what it is, I just know cherries have it.”

“Where exactly are you getting this information from?”

“Dunno. I read it somewhere.” She grabbed three more and popped them into her mouth one after the other. “Did you know that in Japan they eat the blossoms too? We should totally try that sometime.”

Santana gave Brittany an adoring look, loving the random facts spilling from her lips. “Any more cherry facts for me?” she asked, reaching for her drink.

“Um…” the blonde thought as she reached for another. She placed it on her tongue and bit down while she absentmindedly answered, “Cherries are fun to pop.”

Santana snorted loudly and nearly spilt her beer. A few heads turned to see what was wrong and she quickly waved them away. Once no one was paying her and the blonde any attention she whispered, “Britt!”

“What? I had fun that night.” She smiled, remembering something from long ago.

“Brittany,” the Latina scolded, “We’re in public!”

“What? It’s not like anyone heard.”

Santana glanced around the table for good measure. No one seemed to be listening to their conversation. “Yes,” she agreed hastily, her voice harsh and low, “Cherries are fun to pop. But can we please not talk about it in front of our friends?”

Brittany giggled, “Sure San, just making sure you remember you were always mine.” Her face brightened further, “Oh, hey, can you do that thing with your tongue I love?”

“Brittany!”

Kurt actually turned to look at them, “Are you two okay?”

Santana wasn’t able to answer so Brittany spoke up. “We’re fine Kurt,” she smiled. When he nodded and looked away she glanced back at Santana. “I meant with the cherry stem, San, not _that_. Can you do it, please?”

Santana huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulders, shaking her head. She caught Brittany’s eye, and saw the blonde was pleading with her, blue eyes big and sparkling. Well, when she looked like that. “Okay, fine.”

She reached forward to take one of the few cherries with a stem still attached from the bowl. Keeping her eyes on Brittany the whole time she pulled the stem off and put the piece of fruit in her mouth. She spat the seed out onto the lawn.

“Ladylike.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. Making sure the dancer was watching, she put the stem in her mouth. She fiddled with it for a few moments with her tongue and teeth, working it into a knot. When she’d finished she stuck her tongue out, showing the blonde the knotted cherry stem.

At that moment Puck happened to be standing to grab himself another beer. He looked over at her, eyes widening. “Kinky,” he mouth.

Santana flushed furiously and glared icily before looking at the blonde. “Happy?” she muttered.

Brittany hummed in agreement, “I love how talented you are.”

“Do not make me do that again in public. Now Puck’s going to be on my back the whole night.”

“Well,” Brittany began. “I could alw-”

“Don’t,” Santana cut in, knowing Brittany was going to make a sexual comment. “Don’t, please. I don’t need you to say something that will only cause my further embarrassment.” 

“So long as Puck isn’t on your back the way I am, then I’m happy,” the blonde smiled sexily.

Santana could only shake her head.

Brittany completed the circle around the patio table, abandoning the cherries and beginning to play with the beads of condensation on her wine cooler. Her other hand was nestled in Santana’s lap, where it had been playing with a bracelet adorning the Latina’s wrist for the last ten minutes.

Santana and Brittany had ended up going to Plymouth State University; Brittany enrolling in dance classes and Santana trying her luck in business. A year in she dropped her classes and applied to the police academy, where she excelled beyond her own recognition. Years of being drilled by one Sue Sylvester had prepared Santana for the difficulties faced in becoming a police officer, and the rush of power she felt nailing thieves and crooks didn’t hurt either.

The pair now lived in a small apartment complex in Concord, New Hampshire. Santana working in law enforcement, Brittany as a dance instructor at a small studio near their place. They got together with Quinn a few times each year and went back to Lima every year at New Years to visit family.

They also owned a respectable looking and considerably normal acting cat, Tiger. For its normalcy, Santana was thankful. Growing up with Brittany, Santana had begun to think all pet cats were either overweight things that glared at you, or hissing and scratching beasts that strove to torment you as often as possible.

The party continued on. Eventually, the group moved away from the patio table and began milling around and having fun in the spacious backyard. Sam was convinced by Jacob to climb up into the tree house, resulting in Sam deciding he was also going to get himself on top of said tree house as a way of showing off. It was extremely amusing watching him climb down.

There was also a sword fight, Lilly sitting astride Molly’s shoulders bearing her plastic sword down onto Jacob on Anthony’s. Jacob had won in the end, but only because Bailey had gotten in the way and Molly had almost tripped over him.

Eventually, Santana found herself on the far side of the yard, watching Brittany and Quinn act like they were much, much younger.

“Your girlfriend is a dork,” Santana stated bluntly to the man standing next to her.

“That’s why I love her. And I’m thinking your girlfriend is just as big a dork as mine. Possibly bigger,” Richard replied.

Quinn was sitting on the kids’ picnic table, ankles crossed and dress splayed over her lap. She was absentmindedly stroking Jamie’s pink stuffed cat, which sat on her lap, while Jamie herself sat snuggled into Quinn’s side. The blonde had a care-free smile on her face as she sang happily.

_If you go out in the woods today_

_You’re sure of a big surprise_

_If you go out in the woods today_

_You’d better go in disguise_

On the grass in front of her were Brittany and Lilly, hands clasped and dancing around in a circle. Lilly was trying to sing along to the children’s song with Quinn, but was having trouble as Brittany spun her faster and faster. Eventually, her bubbly laughter took over, blending with Brittany’s, as Quinn continued.

_For every bear that ever there was_

_Will gather there for certain, because_

_Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic  
_

“I think she wants a daughter,” Richard said after a moment of watching the scene before them. By now Quinn was standing, holding Jamie in her arms, dancing around with Brittany and Lilly.

“She what?”

“Quinn. She gets along amazing with Jacob, but she wants a daughter. She wants someone she can dress in frilly pink bows and play Barbies with. She will sit for hours with Jacob, building Star Wars starships from Lego. But she wants a daughter.”

“You…” Santana hesitated, a little unsure how to approach the topic. “You do know about…”

“Beth? Yeah, she’s told me.”

Santana nodded. Quinn and Richard had been dating three years now, she’d hoped the Beth thing had come up by now.

“She’s a little afraid of commitment. She wants it, the dream. Happily married with kids. A dog. A white-picket fence. But she’s afraid to ask for it.”

“And you?”

“Whatever makes her happy. I can wait. She knows I love her.”

“You’re a good man, Rich. Quinn’s a handful, she’s lucky to have you,” Santana offered truthfully, watching as Brittany dropped to the grass, Lilly atop her and tickling her sides like a madwoman.

“Okay everyone,” Rachel’s voice carried through the yard. “To set the McKinley High Glee Club Ten Year Anniversary Bash into full swing, I think it’s time we get on with it and start singing!” There was a mixture of groans and cheers. “Come on everyone,” Rachel insisted, “Let’s party!” And just as the sun began to set, the telltale opening notes of Don’t Rain on My Parade began blasting from the speakers.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite all appearances, Puck was not completely wasted. Yet there he stood, singing into his beer bottle after ignoring Rachel’s insistence he use one of her Bedazzled microphones.

_I was working as a waitress_

_In a cocktail bar_

_That much is true_

_But even then I knew I'd find_

_A much better place_

_Either with or without you_

“I find it hard to imagine Puck as a waitress,” Santana commented idly, watching Puck essentially strut on the grass before them.

Rachel giggled next to her, “I bet Noah can be very sassy when he wants to.” They were sitting at the patio table and the grass immediately before them had been dubbed the stage. The kids – except for Robert, who was sitting on Mercedes’ lap – were all lying together on one of the loungers, watching their uncle make a fool of himself.

“Blaine,” Rachel continued, looking past Santana and Kurt, “I am a little upset. Noah is singing our song.”

“Your song?” the Latina asked.

“Yes, don’t you remember? The party I threw in junior year – for Alcohol Awareness? Blaine and I dueted this song.”

“We were pretty kickass,” Blaine agreed.

“This song even sparked our doomed love affair. Really, I am a little peeved Noah would choose this one. It is mine and Blaine’s song.”

“Let him have his fun,” Blaine laughed as Puck twirled around in a circle. “You and I know the truth, we killed it.”

“That we did.”

“You were a great duet partner, Rachel.”

“Ahem,” Kurt said loudly.

“I said great, darling, not my favourite.”

“That’s better.”

By the time Puck had reached the chorus again he had beckoned Brittany, who quickly kissed Santana on the temple before skipping over to join him. She gracefully twirled around him before joining in.

_Don’t you want me, baby_

_Don’t you want me, oh_

_Don’t you want me, baby_

_Don’t you want me, oh_

Once they finished Puck dropped himself back into his seat with all the grace of a semi-drunken elephant. Brittany stayed on their stage, beckoning Tina and Mercedes to join her. The darker woman stood and scrutinised the remaining adults before walking over and placing the baby in Santana’s lap and then going to join Brittany and Tina in their choosing a song.

Santana sat very still, as if she didn’t want the baby to notice her presence. He tipped his head back, looking up happily at her. He then offered her a joyful smile, complete with dimples.

“Um, hey.”

The baby blinked at her.

Kurt sighed heavily next to her. “Santana, you do know he isn’t a Fabergé egg, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“You do also know that my child isn’t a diseased leper, correct?”

“Uh huh.”

Kurt pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose before leaning over and taking Santana’s hands. Forcefully, he placed them on his son’s hips. The baby cooed and leaned back against her chest but Santana made no movement to further cuddle the baby. “Have you never held a baby before?”

“I’ve held babies. I just don’t like babies.”

“I see.”

“Look, why don’t you,” she began, starting to lift Robert and move him onto Kurt’s lap.

“No, no, I think you should hold him. As punishment for not immediately liking my child.”

Santana glared.

Blaine smiled happily, looking past Kurt at her. “It will do you good, Santana. Loosen you up a little.”

“Brittany loosens me up just fine.”

Blaine laughed outright. Kurt flushed and said quickly, “We do not talk about our sex lives in front of the baby. Nor do I ever need to hear about your late night escapades with your girlfriend.”

“You’re only jealous because your husband isn’t a _professional dancer._ Very flexible.”

Kurt, if possible, blushed further.

“Okay, Santana,” Blaine shook his head, “Kurt and I have a perfectly healthy sex life. Let’s drop it before you scar his brain, forcing him to think of you and Britt in compromising situations.”

“Payback for the rainbow comment,” she whispered to Kurt, who just sputtered.

Mercedes eventually settled on a song by a new R&B artist, Tina and Brittany having fun with their impromptu backup singing and dancing.

Quinn and Richard went all lovey-dovey and sang I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing. Or, well, Quinn sang, Richard more or less belted the words out-of-key.

 They continued on like this until eventually, Rachel was the only one not-singed out. Finn had been forced to manhandle her off the stage while Mike stashed the microphone and her iPod somewhere in the house.

The party broke off into smaller groups once the singing stopped. Brittany and Santana had been standing quietly together near the fire pit – Santana had been very nervous over just how fast Mike had got the flames going – until Brittany had scurried away. Now Santana stood, half-finished beer dangling from her fingers as she watched the flames dance.

“Hey, lesbro,” Puck said, coming to stand next to her and bumping her shoulder.

“Hey, cocktail waitress.”

“Low blow.”

“Dude, you were totally asking for it. And I am not your ‘lesbro.’”

Puck gave her a sceptic look, “You are a lesbian. You are like one of the dudes, my bro. That makes you my lesbro. You’ve always been my lesbro.”

“Whatever.”

Puck bent to pick up one of the pieces of wood at his feet. As he stood he tossed it into the fire pit, watching as the red-orange flames engulfed it with a few loud crackles. He looked around for a moment and then asked, “Where’s your other half?”

Santana smiled, “I think she went inside. Tina was rounding up the kiddies and mentioned a movie. I think she’s trying to get them all to fall asleep inside instead of on the grass out here. Jamie was looking a little droopy. And trust Brittany to go where the Disney movies are.”

Puck seemed not to hear her. “So, which half is she?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer he continued, “I bet she’s the bad half. That angel-girl act? Totally a cover up for her being a freak in the sheets, isn’t it?”

Santana rolled her eyes but answered, “She’s the right half.”

“Man, that was a total cheesy line, Lopez.”

She had meant that Brittany was the right side of their pair. When they were growing up and walked with linked pinkies, Brittany was always on her right. Brittany was right handed and Santana was left, so they would always link their free hands together. It had started when they were little but it was a habit that had not been broken with age.

But whatever. Let Puckerman think she was a sap.

“You done with that?” he asked, nodding towards the beer still dangling from her fingertips. She raised an eyebrow but offered him the bottle. “Cool,” he replied before tossing it into the fire pit. There was a small explosion a few seconds later.

“Puck, what the hell?” she yelled, shielding her eyes from the momentarily brighter flames.

“What? I thought it was funny.”

“Moron, alcohol and fire don’t mix.”

“No, you’re the moron. Alcohol and fire _totally_ mix.”

“If you need to be a pyro, go find some fireworks or something. Don’t just toss random amounts of alcohol into the fire and hope the explosion isn’t big enough to roast you alive.”

Puck’s face lit up and he took off, heading towards Mike and Finn to ask if they could go and find some fireworks. Santana shook her head. That boy was never going to grow up and stop causing trouble. As long as he didn’t roast the damn place though, she was good. It was always fun watching Puck make a fool of himself in public.

She wandered over to talk with Mercedes and Quinn for a while, Mercedes was sharing the horror story of the last time she’d visited Lima. It involved waking up in the middle of the night to find the fire department rescuing their neighbour’s dog from a tree. How exactly the dog had gotten up there Mercedes couldn’t say. But that was just the beginning of all the terrible things that had happened while she was last in town.

Eventually, Santana began to miss Brittany’s company. She glanced around the yard a few times but couldn’t spot the blonde. Realising she must not have left after going inside with Tina, Santana excused herself from the conversation and made her way towards the house.

Santana opened the back door and stepped into the bungalow. A glance to her left told her Brittany wasn’t in the kitchen. She moved to the right, leaning in the doorway and looking into the dining room and adjoining living room. No Brittany.

Turning back into the kitchen Santana walked through it and into the hallway. She assumed the blonde wasn’t in Mike and Tina’s bedroom, but she checked the bathroom across the hall. Still no luck.

“Come on, B,” she murmured, “Where are you?”

Reaching the door to the basement Santana tried her luck. From the bottom of the stairs, she could hear a movie playing. Quietly she walked down the carpeted stairs. Reaching the bottom the basement opened into a rec room, complete with children’s toys mixed in with McKinley High football trophies won by the new Coach Chang. There was also a hallway to her left at the base of the stairs, which she assumed housed Lilly and Logan’s bedrooms.

The brunette could see Beauty and the Beast playing on the television. Jacob was sitting on the couch, watching as the villagers tried to break into the Beast’s castle. He was so engrossed with the film he didn’t even notice her presence.

Lilly was sitting on the floor in her pyjamas, parading a plastic pony over a seemingly Lego-made castle.

“Hey, Lil?” Santana asked quietly.

The little girl turned and smiled, her dark hair swishing with the sudden movement. “Hi,” she chirped, “Want to play ponies?” She held up a second plastic horse.

“Maybe later. Have you seen Brittany?”

The girl nodded and pointed towards the hallway and then went back to having the first plastic horse trot on what looked to be the rampart wall of the Lego castle.

The sole door on the left of the small hallway held a bathroom; again, no Brittany. The first door on the right opened into a room painted light green. The bed was covered in a green and flower-print comforter and covered with no less than six different stuffed animals, including a penguin. A toy stroller stood at the foot of the bed, with a doll sitting inside. And on one wall were two shelves, both holding an assortment of rocks. Rocks painted bright colours with stuck on eyes and tissue-paper lips. This was what happened when your mother was a kindergarten teacher; lots of cool craft ideas.

Lilly’s room.

No Brittany.

Santana was seriously hoping that she’d find the blonde in the other room at the end of the hallway. Her only other option would be to ask Tina if the woman had a wardrobe that actually led to Narnia stashed away somewhere; trust Brittany to find that.

She continued past Lilly’s room and glanced into what she assumed would be Logan’s room. She smiled when she caught a flash of blonde hair, but halted in the doorway at the scene she was met with.

Robert was sleeping soundly in the crib on one side of the room. The children’s sized bed indicated that Logan had outgrown the crib, but either Mike and Tina had yet to get rid of it and the change table, or they weren’t done expanding their family yet.

The low-sitting bed on the other side of the room was covered in race car bed sheets and had a safety railing attached to the side not snug against the wall. Jamie was lying next to the railing and holding the pink cat from earlier close to her little frame. Her big brown eyes blinked sleepily and her hair was no longer in pigtails but in messy waves around her face. She also, despite being three, had a soother in her mouth.

Logan was sitting up on the other side of the bed, pyjamas adorned with Winnie the Pooh in various positions of trying to snag honey from a honey pot. “Please?” He whispered to Brittany, who sat at the foot of the bed, her back to Santana.

The dancer placed the book in her arms – Green Eggs and Ham – down on the bedspread. “You want me to read it again? My sweet little Asian baby, I already read it twice.”

“Not sleepy yet,” Jamie spoke softly around the soother.

“Mommy sings when I’m not sleepy,” Logan insisted.

Santana leaned against the door frame soundlessly, watching the interaction. She watched as Brittany sat perfectly still, her back stiffening for a moment. Then she sighed contentedly and her shoulders dropped, “Okay,” she said, holding her arms out.

Logan kicked the blankets off and crawled over to Brittany, wrapping his arms around her neck and his legs around her middle as she stood up. “Yay! Songs!” he cheered.

“Shhh,” Brittany admonished. “I promise to sing, but you have to stay quiet, honey. Robert is sleeping. We can’t wake him up. And you have to promise to go to bed when I’m done.”

“Okay.”

Stepping towards the head of the bed, Brittany reached an arm out over the safety rail to brush a lock of hair from Jamie’s face. “You agree too?”

The little girl nodded, already halfway to dreamland. Santana smiled knowingly, at this rate, Jamie would be dead to the world before Brittany finished her song, and probably wouldn’t even wake when Kurt and Blaine transferred her from Logan’s bed to the car for their drive to the Hudmel residence for the rest of their stay in Lima.

Santana and Brittany were staying with Brittany’s parents for the weekend visit to Lima. Visiting Santana’s family too, but they were staying at the Pierce’s house. Santana’s mother was okay with them as a couple, but still not perfectly comfortable with the two long-time girlfriends sharing a bed under her roof.

But really, it wasn’t like Brittany and Santana hadn’t already broken in the bed in Santana’s childhood room when they were teenagers.

“What are you gonna sing?” the little boy in her girlfriend’s arms asked.

The blonde’s head dipped down as she looked at him. “What would you like me to sing, my little musketeer?”

“A lullaby,” he yawned.

Jamie nodded her head in agreement.

Brittany stood next to the bed, back still to Santana. She shifted the boy in her arms so he was resting against her hip with his head snuggled into her neck. Santana could see his dark hair resting against Brittany’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if I know any lullabies,” Brittany said softly, almost regretfully.

The boy pleaded, “Please?”

The blonde shifted from one foot to another restlessly. Santana knew if she could see her face, Brittany would be biting her lip as she thought. “Okay,” she said eventually, “I think I have one.”

Jamie pulled the soother from her mouth. When she spoke, her voice was laced with a struggle to fight off sleep. “Will it have giraffes? When Daddy sings to me, he likes to sing about giraffes. It makes Papa laugh.” She placed the soother back in her mouth and snuggled deeper into the bed.

Though Santana couldn’t see Brittany’s face, she knew the blonde was smiling, “Sure baby, we can pretend it’s about giraffes.”

The brunette watched as Brittany’s right foot began to tap, finding the gentle beat of whatever song she’d chosen. Whenever Brittany sang, she danced. It was part of her makeup. And Santana loved her for it.

Brittany began humming softly to herself and shifting slowly from one foot to another. One arm was holding the child close to her, the other from what Santana could see, was drawing circles on his back as she began softly.

_Baby mine, don't you cry_

_Baby mine, dry your eyes_

Her voice was soft and shaky at first, trying to find her place with the melody playing inside her head.

_Rest your head close to my heart_

_Never to part_

_Baby of mine  
_

Santana recognized the song, but couldn’t place where she’d heard it. It was familiar, but she was too busy watching the beautiful sight in front of her to try to remember where she’d heard the melody.

_Little one when you play_

_Don't you mind what they say_

_Let those eyes sparkle and shine_

_Never a tear_

_Baby of mine_

Her hips moved in a slow arc, shifting her weight back and forth while she held Logan close to her chest. She bent down and kissed the crown of his head as she began the next verse.

_If they knew sweet little you_

_They'd end up loving you too_

_All those same people who scold you_

_What they'd give just for the right to hold you_

Santana was mystified. She loved Brittany. She’d loved her from the moment they’d become friends, when Santana had defended a tearful Brittany and punched a green crayon snatching Noah Puckerman when they were four.

But she’d never seen the blonde like this before, so open and caring and stunningly beautiful. She was hardly dancing at all, and her voice was soft and gentle, unlike her shower singing sessions. But in that moment Santana was sure she’d never loved the dancer more. _  
_

_From your head down to your toes_

_You're not much, goodness knows_

One of her hands drifted down again, clasping Jamie’s small hand. The little girl was trying to stay awake to hear the whole song, but it was a losing battle. Brittany pulled her hand away and shifted Logan closer, continuing with the soothing lyrics.

_But you're so precious to me_

_Sweet as can be_

_Baby of mine_

Santana was unsure why her chest was squeezing so painfully. She felt moisture prick at her eyes. The brunette blinked hard, pushing the tears back. She was overcome with emotion she couldn’t explain. Brittany. She was beautiful and happy and Santana had never seen anything like the display she was witness to right now. _  
  
__All of those people who scold you_

_What they'd give just for the right to hold you_

The dancer within her eventually got the better of Brittany. She began slowly waltzing with the small boy she was carrying, letting her voice carry louder as she became more confident in her actions. 

_From your head down to your toes_

_You're not much, goodness knows_

Brittany continued waltzing and suddenly she was facing Santana. Her eyes widened a moment when she noticed Santana had been watching, but a shy smile crept onto her face and her eyes twinkled as she finished the song, never looking away from the brunette.

_But you're so precious to me_

_Sweet as can be_

_Baby of mine_

_Baby of mine_

Brittany stilled as her lullaby ended, a serene expression on her face. Santana held her breath.

After a beat of simply watching each other, Brittany slowly turned away, moving towards the bed. She knelt down at the foot and tenderly laid Logan back down next to a soundly sleeping Jamie. The little boy burrowed into the blanket and yawned. He then blew a kiss at the dancer, “Night Auntie Brit-ey.”

At this Brittany seemed to falter.

Santana stepped into the room, stopping next to the frozen blonde. She laid a reassuring hand on Brittany’s shoulder. “Good night Logan,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Another yawn. “Night Auntie Sana.”

“Night,” Brittany whispered.

The Latina squeezed Brittany’s shoulder, encouraging her to stand. Still looking a little dazed, Brittany stood up and began to follow the Latina from the room. “Wait, hang on,” she whispered. Turning back, she fiddled with the baby monitor on the small table next to the bed, pressing buttons and turning dials at random until a little red light came on.

She turned to look at Santana, who stood by the door. With a shy smile, Brittany latched her pinkie to the other woman’s and they left the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Santana then took the blonde’s hand in her own and silently led her down the hallway. They passed Jacob and Lilly, who were now both intently watching Toy Story; neither looked up as the pair passed and ascended the stairs.

Without turning to look back at her, Santana led Brittany to the front of the house. Opening the front door, she tugged her outside onto the porch and then quickly spun around, wrapping her arms around Brittany’s middle.

Arms came up automatically to hold her close, “You okay?”

“I love you,” she muttered into Brittany’s collarbone, peppering the exposed skin with light kisses.

Santana didn’t need to look up to know Brittany was smiling. “I love you too?”

“You’re beautiful,” Santana continued.

“So are you,” the dancer replied, clearly a little confused with the Latina’s behaviour.

When she didn’t offer any more Brittany pulled back slightly, head tipped down to look at the shorter brunette. “Hey,” she asked, a hand lifting to skim under Santana’s chin. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… that, in there,” she nodded back at the house. “You just…”

Brittany blinked, waiting patiently for Santana to sort out her thoughts.

“You looked so… like you fit. With them. It… it scared me.”

Eyes narrowed cautiously, “It scared you?”

“I don’t know why, it just… you looked so content, like you belonged. You were so wonderful with them. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”

Brittany shrugged, “I was just singing.”

“I know,” Santana wiped at her eyes, brushing away the moisture still threatening to fall. “I don’t… I don’t know why it made me so emotional.” She sighed, “I just love you.” It was the best reason she could give.

“Sap,” Brittany giggled. She turned them so they were both leaning against the railing, shoulders touching.

A thought brushed past Santana’s consciousness and she grabbed at it, wanting a distraction. “That was from Dumbo, wasn’t it?” The recognition of the song was suddenly obvious; it was from that silly Disney movie about an elephant with big ears. The mother sang it to him at one point in the movie.

“Yeah,” was all Brittany offered.

By way of explanation, Santana continued, “You hate that movie.”

Brittany bumped her shoulder against Santana’s playfully and nodded, “It’s so sad. When they lock Jumbo up and take Dumbo away… it makes me sad.” As an afterthought she added, “And the pink elephants scare me.” She turned, leaning one hip against the porch rail to look at the brunette, “But it was the only lullaby I could think of.” She gave a lopsided grin.

“You knew all the words.”

“San, it’s me. I know _all_ the words. To every Disney song,” she laughed and rolled her eyes, “Don’t you remember in high school, me and Blaine…?”

Santana mimicked the eye-rolling, “Oh God. You two used to have like, heated debates over every damn Disney movie you could think of. And the singing, so much singing.”

“Admit it,” Brittany giggled, slapping playfully at Santana’s shoulder, “You and Kurt loved it. Don’t you remember, that double date we did one time? When Blaine and I serenaded you two with A Whole New World from Aladdin at the bowling alley? We had a whole routine and everything.”

Santana blushed at the memory, “I’d rather not. You two got us kicked out.”

Brittany smiled mischievously, “Mmm hmm, and then we ditched Kurt and Blaine and made out in the back of your car for like an hour. And other things.”

And other things. That was like their catchphrase as teenagers.

Before she had time to protest, Santana found herself being swept into a waltz, Brittany’s arms set securely around her as she led the brunette in a slow, easy dance around the porch.

“Britt, what are you doing?”

“Well, it isn’t mine and Blaine’s original choreography, but it works.” She began singing, “ _I can show you the world, s_ _hining, shimmering, splendid.”_

“Please stop.”

“ _Tell me, princess,_ ” she continued, dropping the Latina into a dip before continuing to lead her around the small space, “ _Now when did you last let your heart decide?_ ”

“B, I get it. You can stop now.”

“ _I can open your eyes, take you wonder by wonder._ ”

Santana struggled against the blonde’s grip, trying to stop the unnecessary dancing, but Brittany held fast.

“ _Over, sideways and under, on a magic carpet ride.”_

“Brittany please-”

The taller woman sang over her, “ _A whole new world!_ ”

“B, Mike and Tina’s neighbours are going to see us.”

“So? _A new fantastic point of view_. Sing with me and I’ll stop.” She continued to box-step them around the small porch.

“Darling, I love you, but no.”

“ _No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming._ You sing and dance all the time at home, San.”

“At home, meaning in the privacy of our apartment. Not in public, where the neighbours will think someone is being attacked on the Chang’s front porch.”

“ _A whole new world, a dazzling place I never knew._ I don’t hear singing. _”_ She stopped suddenly, an expectant look on her face.

“B,” Santana whined.

Brittany lifted her eyebrows, waiting.

With an exasperated huff, Santana continued the lyric, “ _But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear, that now I'm in a whole new world with you_.”

The blonde beamed and nodded happily, twirling Santana as they finished the verse together, “ _Now I'm in a whole new world with you._ ”

“There, see, was that so bad?”

“Yes,” Santana replied solemnly.

The blonde stuck out her tongue in response.

“Dork.”

“You love me. You love that I know all the words.”

Holding back her laughter, Santana tried to bring them back to the serious conversation they’d been having before being distracted by her girlfriend’s bizarre singing and dancing antics. “I just can’t believe you remember all the words to a song in a movie you don’t even like.” She sighed, “How many times have you seen Dumbo, like, three?”

“Five.” The blonde said this like she knew exactly how many times she’d seen every Disney movie during her lifetime. “The first time was with Tina after a dance class when we were seven. We both cried and her mom had to take us out for ice cream to make us feel better.”

“You are adorable.”

Brittany leaned over and kissed Santana’s nose, “I love you too.”

Not one to miss an opportunity, Santana captured Brittany’s lips with her own. One hand gripped her around the waist and the other tangled itself in blonde hair, drawing Brittany ever closer. The blonde’s teeth grazed along Santana’s lip and the brunette sighed blissfully. “You were so great with them,” she whispered, breaking the kiss and simply holding Brittany in a tight hug.

“Mmmm?” Brittany said into her hair.

“Logan and Jamie. You were perfect.”

She felt Brittany shrug. “I like kids.”

Santana made a strangled sound. It was like the wires, tangled before, were suddenly connected in the right way and the circuit was complete. Her brain made the connection with a sudden burst, adrenalin rushing through her body as the thought revealed itself and unfolded inside her mind. She stiffened in Brittany’s arms, heart racing within her ribcage.

The dancer pulled back slightly, glancing down at her. “What’s up with you? You aren’t all here. You haven’t been since we stepped outside.”

Santana didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. She was too busy standing dumbly as her mind went wild, thoughts tumbling through her stunted brain one after the other before she could stop them.

* * *

 

_“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Santana asked, dropping clumsily into a kitchen chair._

_Brittany stood by their apartment window, looking down at something on the ground three stories below._

_“Mrs. Mathews,” she answered without turning, “From next door. She’s out walking her baby.”_

_“Like, on a leash?” Santana asked, reaching out to grab Brittany’s forgotten mug of coffee._

_Brittany turned, an unimpressed look on her face, “I said walking her baby, not her dog.” She shook her head in silent laughter. “In a stroller.”_

_“Ah,” was all Santana said._

_Brittany moved to lean against the kitchen table next to her girlfriend, her knees brushing against Santana’s thighs. “Why are you like that?”_

_Santana sipped the coffee, “Like what?”_

_“That was mine by the way,” she nodded to the coffee, “And I mean, you get so… closed. Whenever kids are around.”_

_Santana shrugged. She didn’t like kids, so what?_

_“I mean, I’m not saying you have to go and like, skip through the nursery at the hospital and sing Old MacDonald to the newly born little babies. But you always close up and get dismissive when you see someone happy with their children.”_

_“I don’t do well with kids, B. You remember me with your sister?”_

_Brittany waved the argument away, “She didn’t like you because you ignored her and refused to play Barbies with her every time she asked. If you had tried, she would have liked you. She likes you well enough now.”_

_“Yeah, now,” Santana said, placing the mug down on the table, “Now that she’s in high school. I just don’t get along with kids.”_

_The blond bumped her leg against Santana’s, “I think you’d be great with kids if you stopped acting like you don’t like them.”_

_“I_ don’t _like them,” the brunette stressed._

_Brittany scoffed._

_“B, I’m sorry. I just don’t like kids. I never have. I’ve never had that desire to peek over the crib when my aunt had a new baby. I never wanted to babysit for the neighbours. And I never fantasised what it would be like to have my_ _own kids.”_

_“I think you’d make a great mom,” Brittany said timidly._

_Santana’s head flew up and she gaped for a moment, unsure exactly how to respond to this. Eventually she settled with, “Britt… no.”_

_“I didn’t,” she looked at Santana, confused. “What?”_

_“Brittany, I know you love kids. You adore kids. But… I can’t. I can’t be a mom. I can’t have a family with you. Not like that.”_

_Biting down on her lip, Brittany said slowly, “I’m not, I’m not asking you to.”_

_Santana stood, pushing her body between the blonde’s legs and taking her hands. “Not right now you aren’t. I get it. But… but sometime you will. One day you will wake up and you’ll want to ask me to have a family with you. But I can’t, B.”_

_“San,” Brittany tried._

_“I’m not you, babe. I don’t have that confidence you do, not with children. I… I don’t want to be my mother. I don’t want to put a child through what she put me through.” She kept her eyes focused on blue ones, begging Brittany to understand, to not make her elaborate further._

_Santana’s family was one of the reasons she’d moved so far from Lima. They were her parents, so she loved them, but that was as far as it went. Growing up, she’d spent more time at the Pierces’ house than her own. Her father was hardly around, lavishing his daughter with material gifts instead of physical affection. Her mother was cold and unforgiving, pointing out every one of her daughter’s flaws and being less than understanding once she’d truly understood her daughter’s relationship with her best friend._

_“You aren’t your mother,” Brittany offered._

_“I can’t, B. I’m not the lovey-dovey kind like you are. I don’t get along with kids. Please, don’t push me on this. I can’t. I can’t have a child with you. Not now, not later.”_

_Brittany pursed her lips, sighed, and a small smile of understanding eventually appeared on her face. “I love you,” she said, pulling the brunette close._

_“I love you too,” she answered hesitantly, hoping Brittany wouldn’t push this._

_“I think…” she paused, sorting out her words, “I really do think you’d make a great mom.” Santana opened her mouth to protest so Brittany quickly laid a finger against her lips. “You say you don’t get along with kids. But I think it’s like, a rule that you get along with your own. It’s just natural. You love them and care for them. But I get it.” She looked like she was trying to hold back how upsetting this conversation was for her. “I get why you don’t want to do this. But just promise me; promise me that you won’t close this door completely. Just… just in case you ever change your mind. Please? Don’t hold yourself back from this because you’re afraid. Let me know if you ever want to.”_

_Not wanting to make the dancer more upset Santana nodded mutely, knowing deep down her answer would never change._

* * *

 

“…San, earth to Santana.” Brittany was saying, waving a hand in front of her face.

“Brittany,” she said breathily.

The blonde’s eyes widened when she realized she finally had Santana’s attention. “Where did you go? You left me for a minute. What’s going on?”

“Brittany,” she repeated, her voice nervous.

“You didn’t like, forget to turn the stove off or something like that, did you? Because, I mean, that causes fires and I’d rather like to go home to an intact apartment.”

“Brittany.”

The blonde quieted, blue eyes blinking carefully as she studied the shorter woman. Her gaze swept up and down, fully taking Santana in, trying to understand the sudden shift in emotion. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” she asked quietly.

“I want to.”

“… want to what?”

“What you asked me. I want to.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I want-” her voice cracked. “Britt, I…” She didn’t even understand the desire. It was just a sudden flame deep inside that she couldn’t put out. Every moment she thought about it, the need grew stronger. She swallowed, “Four years ago… you asked me something. I wasn’t… I didn’t… I’m ready now. I want to.”

Brittany was the most perceptive person Santana knew when it came to matters of the heart, so it was no surprise that it only took a few seconds before a look of understanding donned her face.

Then a look of disbelief.

Then a look of utter adoration.

“You mean…?”

Her voice was strong when she spoke, “I want a baby. With you.”

“A baby,” Brittany mouthed, still in shock. Her eyes shone brighter than Santana had ever seen, “You… and me. And a baby.”

“Yes.”

Brittany bit down on her lip, trying to contain the smile threatening to overtake her face. “You… you aren’t teasing me? Please, please say you aren’t teasing me.”

“No. I want this.”

“What,” the blonde shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, “What brought this on? I thought… I thought you didn’t-”

Santana kissed her, stopping the thought. When she pulled back she answered, “You. Seeing you, in there, with Jamie and Logan. I just… I don’t even understand. But you looked so at peace, so in your element when you were with them. You were prefect. Beautiful. I can’t deny you that. I want to see you like that, so comfortable in your skin, so at ease and stunning, for the rest of my life. Now that I’ve seen it I don’t ever want to take that away from you.”

Brittany’s fingers gently brushing against her cheek made her aware of the tears. She hadn’t realized she was crying. “You’re really serious about this.”

Santana nodded in earnest. “I want this with you. I’ve never wanted something with you more than I want this. I love you.”

“Wow,” Brittany giggled. Her hand left Santana’s cheek to cover her own mouth and part of her cheek, trying to hide her blush. Santana saw the woman’s blue orbs were sparkling with unshed tears. “Wow. I love you. But wow. You… we get to have a baby.”

“Yeah,” Santana breathed. Her fingers reached out hesitantly to lay her hands flat against Brittany’s stomach.

“Oh, hey, wait. I have to be the one to get pregnant?”

Santana arched an eyebrow.

The blonde rolled her eyes, “Okay, yeah. I’d be the one to get pregnant.”

“I think you’d look hot with a baby-belly.”

She laughed as Brittany furrowed her eyebrows, “Hot? Um, San, I’d be fat. And not like the _I just gained weight_ kind of fat. It would like, _only_ be on my stomach. It would look weird.”

“It would look hot,” the Latina reassured.

Brittan pouted, “My abs would go away.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

“What? No, San, these,” she said, taking Santana’s hands and placing them just under her shirt, “you can’t buy these.” Santana immediately dragged her fingers up over the toned muscles, digging her nails in slightly and causing Brittany to hiss with pleasure. “You said that on purpose, didn’t you? Just to touch my abs.”

Santana hummed in agreement. “Mhmm, yes.” She let her hands slide around to rest against the small of Brittany’s back as she leaned in, pressing their bodies close together. “You’re imagining yourself pregnant, aren’t you?” She asked, her head tucked under Brittany’s chin.

“I’m trying to see how it would work. Dancing would be a challenge.”

“Babe, if anyone could master being pregnant and teaching little kids to dance at the same time, it would be you.”

“That’s true. This will change our lives, you realize. Like forever.”

“In a good way. That’s the point, isn’t it? Procreation? I get to see you rock maternity clothes.”

“I thought the point was passing on genes and survival and fitness or whatever, not being happy because you get to see your hot girlfriend pregnant.”

“Don’t ruin my moment.”

Brittany scoffed, “Oh, sorry. Forgive me for stepping on your special ‘my girlfriend’s bloated stomach is a turn on’ thing.”

“Cynic.”

“Sap.”

“I think our usual roles are reversed here.”

“You make me emotional, it’s your gift.” She kissed Brittany again for good measure. “So what would our hypothetical child call us?”

Brittany giggled and nuzzled her nose against Santana’s. “You mean like how Kurt and Blaine are Daddy and Papa?” she asked, squeezing the smaller woman closer to her.

“Exactly.”

The dancer answered easily, “Well, I’d be Mama.”

Santana leaned back to look up, watching Brittany’s blue eyes carefully. “You wouldn’t want to be Mommy?”

Brittany blushed, “Well, yeah, but… Mommy sounds too close to Mami. Which would be you, right?”

“Oh,” Santana realized. “True.”

“So there. I’d be Mama and you’d be Mami.”

This was not as simple as Brittany was making it out to be. “Okay, but,” Santana began, fingers tickling the blonde’s sides, “What about when this child gets older.”

Brittany squirmed in her grasp but tried to stay focused, “What?”

“Mami _means_ Mommy,” the Latina explained. “When this child no longer wants to call me Mommy, what will it call me? You don’t call your mom _Mommy_ anymore just like I don’t still call mine _Mami_.”

Brittany frowned, “I call her Mom. And you call yours Mamá.”

“Exactly. Mamá means Mom in Spanish.”

The understanding of how complicated this was seemed to dawn on Brittany. “Oh. Mamá and Mama. I get it. That’s bad.” She pouted.

“See the dilemma?”

The blonde chewed her lip for a moment, thinking up a solution. Santana waited patiently, enjoying watching the emotions flick across the blonde’s face as she tackled the naming problem. Eventually she smirked and said, “What if I’m Mommy and you’re Mamá? We get rid of Mami altogether? Then I become Mom when they become a moody teenager, and you stay as Mamá? Does that work?”

“Huh. I could live with that.” She kissed the blonde again, “You are so clever, babe.”

“Well,” Brittany began as Santana continued kissing her, moving down to suck at her pulse point. “We can’t both… you are distracting me. We can’t both be called the same thing. That would… suck.”

Santana nipped harder, enjoying teasing the blonde. “Sucking is good sometimes.”

Brittany groaned. One hand raised to cup Santana’s cheek, pulling her face closer while the other wrapped protectively around her back. Sincerely she said, “I can’t believe you really want this.”

“I can’t believe I _didn’t_ want this.”

Mike’s face suddenly appeared, his body leaning in the front doorway, “Hey, did either of you – oh.” He took in how their bodies were intertwined. “Sorry. Are we having a moment?”

“Kinda,” Brittany shrugged, Santana’s body being forced to move along with her. Santana turned her head, resting one side against Brittany’s shoulder so she could look Mike in the eyes. Not a mean _get the hell out of here_ glare, simply a _it would be nice if you made yourself scarce_ kind of look.

He smiled at her, “I’ll just…” He motioned back inside and then disappeared from view.

“We get to have what they have,” Brittany whispered.

Santana nodded, suddenly finding the idea of miniature Brittany’s and Santana’s running around her legs a little intimidating.

“So,” Brittany began, shifting her body away slightly so she could look at the shorter woman, “When you get pregnant, Tina says you get cravings. Like, the food kind.”

“Yes,” Santana replied carefully.

“So… you’d be willing to make me anything I asked you to?”

Brown eyes widened slightly, “What kind of strange cravings are we talking here, B?”

“I was watching a cooking show the other day,” the dancer explained, “The guy made chocolate dipped asparagus. It looked really yummy.”

“Oh, ew.”

“You don’t have to eat them if you think its gross sounding. But I want to try them.”

Santana shook her head in amusement and squeezed Brittany’s arms, “You are too adorable for your own good. And yes, I’ll make you nasty chocolate covered vegetables should you ever ask.”

“Well, I’m asking.”

“You aren’t pregnant yet.”

“Oh. Right.” From the look in her eyes, Santana could tell Brittany was once again envisioning herself as pregnant.

Santana found herself picturing it too, and the emotional tidal wave washed over her once more. The two of them. With a baby. A fire that had never before been ignited within her was suddenly burning as strong as a bonfire. She wanted this with Brittany. She wanted this with Brittany so bad it hurt.

And then she had a thought. A thought that made her shiver with excitement. As if Brittany and a baby weren’t enough, this sudden and unexplained idea seemed to make the fire grow even stronger.

The brunette leaned forward, capturing Brittany in a heated kiss. The arousal flowed through her uncontrolled and she pressed her body tightly against the blonde’s. Both arms wrapped firmly around the other woman’s back, as if trying to bring her close enough to merge their bodies together.

One of Brittany’s hands rested on her hip, fingers gently kneading the skin below Santana’s jeans. Her other hand moved higher, getting itself tangled in Santana’s dark mane. She pushed her lips more forcefully against Santana’s, her tongue slipping between parted lips.

The shorter of the two moaned, her legs growing weak. They had done this dance many times before, but kissing Brittany never failed to make her head spin and leave her body feeling like jelly. Brittany held her up, biting Santana’s lip softly as her fingers threaded through the belt loop of Santana’s jeans.

She pulled away from Brittany’s lips and kissed her way along pale skin, across the blonde’s jaw bone and up to the temple, stopping to bite down on an ear lobe. Brittany hissed at the sensation.

Santana smirked, taking advantage of Brittany’s distracted state to let the tips of her fingers slip under the material of Brittany’s shirt. She kissed her way back to the blonde’s lips as her fingers raked higher and higher against heated flesh.

“San,” Brittany panted, “San, we need to stop.”

Her fingers continued to trace patterns on Brittany’s pale skin just below her bra. “Why?” Brittany looked stunning in the moonlight.

The dancer pulled away, looking down at Santana. She was smiling and her eyes were dark with desire, but she took Santana’s wrists and pulled them out from under her shirt. “You were worried about the neighbours seeing us dancing out here? We go any further and they will be seeing a whole different kind of dancing.”

“Don’t care. I’d like to be kissing you again please.”

The blonde pulled a bit farther away, putting space between their heated bodies as she looked quizzically at Santana. “What’s up with you?” she questioned. “First you’re talking about babies, and then suddenly you want to have sex on Mike and Tina’s front porch?”

“B, you do know how babies are made, right?”

“S, you do know that between the two of us, we are missing some key baby-making parts. What’s with the sexy?” As an afterthought the dancer added, “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“I just, I thought of something.”

Amused, Brittany asked, “What’s that?”

Santana bit down on her lip, a little unsure. She wanted a child with Brittany, but would this be too big a push? She’d already sprung the children idea on Brittany out of the blue. Dropping this… she didn’t even know where this was coming from. She didn’t know where any of this was coming from. She was on an emotional high; not sure how she got there or how to come down.

“San?” Brittany prompted, nudging her hips against Santana’s.

Hesitatingly Santana offered, “I… I want you to carry my eggs.”

Brittany took a full step backwards, eyes widening in surprise. Santana watched as the blonde blinked rapidly, seeming to become paler in the dim light. She opened her mouth, but only managed a shaky breath.

Santana felt the ground begin to crumble beneath her. Why had she said that? Why had she _thought_ that but more importantly why had she said it out loud? Why hadn’t she–

“Really?” Brittany said breathily.

Santana swallowed and nodded her head once.

Taking a deep breath, the taller woman made sure they’re eyes were locked on each other before speaking. “You… you’d want me to… t-to do that? You, I-I mean…you’d trust me to, with your…?” Her face held disbelief.

Santana looked down at her feet, “You don’t have to-”

Brittany immediately cut her off, “I want to.”

Brown eyes lifted, searching blue ones for the truth in the statement. “Really?”

“Yes. Yes, I… San, I… wow. Really? You… you’d trust me to do that? To carry, to carry _your_ child?”

“Our child.”

“But… yours. Me, carrying your eggs…” she shook her head, clearly still in disbelief. “Santana, I… I’m… honoured? Floored? Flattered? Possibly more in love?” She giggled adorably. “I… I really don’t know what to think right now besides ‘yes.’”

“Yes?”

“ _Yes_ ,” the blonde stressed, taking Santana’s hands in her own and grasping them tightly. “Of course. _Of course_ I would do this. For you. For us. In a heartbeat.”

Santana smiled timidly, still a little nervous about the prospect. “I don’t know why, it just seems…”

“Right,” the dancer finished for her. “It seems right. It would be ours, if we did it like that.” Brittany tugged sharply on Santana’s hands, jerking the smaller woman into her arms and wrapping her in a hug. She brought their lips together in a soft kiss. It was much gentler than the searing one only moments before, this time filled with love and adoration. It was a promise.

Brittany was the one to eventually pull away. She kept her body close, but tilted her head to one side, confusion evident on her face. “Wait… this was the sexy?”

Heat flushed Santana’s cheeks and she looked sharply to one side, nodded embarrassingly. “Yeah,” she whispered.

“Really? You… you find the idea sexy?”

Turning back she focused on Brittany’s sparkling blues, watching them closely as she answered. “You, carrying my eggs, I find the idea very arousing. A part of me, knowing its growing inside you. Knowing you’d have a part of me with you. It just… it does something for me, I guess. I never really thought about it before.”

Brittany’s smile grew impossibly larger, “I’m glad you’ve thought about it now.”

“Me too,” Santana whispered, stepping forward to lean against the railing. Brittany moved to stand behind her, resting her forehead against Santana’s shoulder and inhaling deeply. “I’m so in love with you,” she murmured.

“You really want to do this?” Santana spoke after a while.

“Lean against Mike and Tina’s front porch and ignore that Puck probably has smores going out there by now? That or firecrackers anyway.”

“Start a family.”

“Yes, I want to start a family with you. I love you. I want to show you how much I love you. And I want to show you how much you can love our children.”

“Wait, children? As in plural.”

“You only want one?”

“I… I never thought about it. Until about twenty minutes ago, I was pretty sure I didn’t even want one. Why? You want more than one?”

Brittany just snuggled closer, “I already have you. Adding babies to the mix is just the cherry on top.”

Santana laughed, “You are such a sap, you know that? You say all the right things.”

“Mmmm,” the dancer giggled, pressing a quick kiss to Santana’s neck. “It’s true though. We don’t have to decide right this minute. We just, take it in stride.”

“Did you,” Santana paused, the words there but her nerves taking over. She swallowed and tried again, “Did you always know I’d come around?”

“I’d hoped you might. But I love you. And I understand you and why you never wanted kids. I get it, I do. But I still love you. I’m lucky I have you, I mean it. If I spent the rest of my life with you but with no mini me’s running around, I’d be just as happy. I’d never want you to do something you weren’t comfortable with.”

Santana sighed heavily.

“Ohh, I don’t like that sound.”

“I… I feel guilty,” the brunette explained quietly. “Like, what if I never said yes? I’d be holding you back. You say you’d be happy without, but I saw you in there. You love them. You love all kids. I’d be denying you something you deserve.”

“San, you weren’t ready. That’s okay. I wasn’t ready when we were nine and you tried to teach me to rollerblade. And you waited until I was. Simple as that.”

“You are so wise.”

“Like Yoda. Only taller,” Brittany said seriously, fingers gently gripped Santana’s hips.

“And not green.”

“I could pull off green though. Totally.”

“Of course, babe.”

“Or blue. I could do blue, I think. Like a Smurf. Oh,” she squealed right into Santana’s ear, “San, we could have cute little Smurf babies!”

“I do not want Smurf babies. I do not want a short, blue-skinned child, Britt. No.”

“It would be cute,” Brittany sing-songed.

“It would be weird,” Santana replied in the same tone. “I am willing to have a child with you, Britt. But I am not prepared to have to explain to people why my girlfriend gave birth to a blue-skinned child. Especially if said girlfriend was carrying my eggs. I mean, I’m assuming we’d use a donor, but no. We are not finding a blue-skinned donor and we are not having blue-skinned children. Or green. Or purple. Or whatever. I have standards. My girlfriend will not be giving birth to rainbow-coloured children.”

“Wait, San,” she said softly. The amusement in her voice from moments before gone, replaced with a serious tone. “If…”

Santana tried to suppress the squeezing of her heart, knowing that somehow she’d said something wrong. She’d said something about this baby idea that Brittany didn’t like. This was the ‘but,’ wasn’t it? The part where her happiness was dangled above her only to be snatched away. She was grateful Brittany was standing behind her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide the sadness in her eyes at hearing the blonde’s words. It had taken only moments, but Santana had already grown attached to the idea of having a child with Brittany. She didn’t want to think about Brittany saying ‘no.’ Not now.

Brittany continued, oblivious to Santana’s fears, “If we do this, then we have to do it right. I want to do this right.”

Santana’s voice was small as she asked, “What does that mean?”

Brittany’s hands on her hips pulled away and Santana missed them immediately, feeling the cool night air instead of the warmth from the blonde. Brittany was moving around behind her, she felt the blonde’s hands brush against her hair as they moved them somewhere up near Brittany’s face.

“What-?”

“Shhh, hang on.” Whatever task Brittany had started, she seemed to have accomplished it. There was a tiny click and then a shy, happy giggle.

“Britt, what?-She was cut off by Brittany’s hands reappearing around her middle. Santana looked down to see Brittany take the Latina’s hands

She was cut off by Brittany’s hands reappearing around her middle. Santana looked down to see Brittany take the Latina’s hands in her own, watching in awe as one of Brittany’s gold hoop earrings was gracefully slid onto Santana’s ring finger. It was a little loose fitting, but the sentiment shocked Santana into silence.

Brittany dropped her head, resting it against Santana’s shoulder. “It means,” she said quietly, squeezing both of Santana’s hands in her own and kissing her temple, “I’ll have your children, but only if you’ll have me as your wife.”


End file.
